A Musical Nightmare
by nuclearXsquid
Summary: Alex has no idea about what he's getting into when he chooses band as his fine arts class. '"Do you have an instrument of choice?” Alex shook his head. Truthfully, he didn't care.' Unfortunately, his indifference will come back to haunt him.
1. Chapter 1

Well, while Mom was putting us through the torture of extensive house cleaning to get ready for Thanksgiving and company, this idea randomly entered my mind. I'm not sure how long it will be, but it will definitely be longer than a one-shot.

This idea still makes me snicker when thinking about it. Hehehehe.

Disclaimer: Well... I own all the books (except for one an ex-friend lost. It was my favorite (Eagle Strike), too (tear)), the movie (I'm not sure why...), and the idea behind this fic and everyone in the section, so I'm good! I don't need money anyways, I babysit (cringe).

* * *

Alex stared at his history notes sideways as his head rested on his desktop. The letters blurred and the grip he had on his pencil relaxed. Slowly, he drifted off into dreamland after another night of endless catch-up homework. It was only two weeks into the semester and he was already behind, trying to learn all the information he had missed – and failed on the finals.

Ten minutes would hardly matter if he didn't pay attention, he could always ask Tom about the lesson. His last coherent thought was that it was irresponsible to sleep when he was behind.

His unconsciousness drifted towards... smoothies... cherry smoothies... no, it was blood... No! Don't go there... Food sounds good... cheese... Alex... no, that's not food... Alex?!... Alex Rider!!

Alex bolted up in his chair. His history teacher was glaring at him and a counselor had a stern look on her face from the doorway. "I need you to come with me, Alex."

Alex nodded, fighting off fatigue. "Should I bring my stuff?"

The woman shrugged. "I would, there's only ten minutes left of the period." Alex glanced at the clock. He had slept longer than he thought.

The woman led him into the office and down a hallway into her office. She motioned to a chair and turned to the computer to pull up Alex's school file.

Alex sat down and was silent as she regarded him for a moment.

"It seems as though you did okay on your finals, despite the amount of school you've missed from your illnesses. But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about," she said.

"Okay, then what did you want to talk to me about? I'm missing my lesson," Alex complained.

She humphed. "It didn't seem to bother you much that you were missing it while you were sleeping before I pulled you out."

"Fair point, do go on."

"Well, to graduate, you need a fine arts credit. With each semester, you get half a credit. Now, I think you can manage this, but we'll need to change your schedule so we can put you into a fine arts class this year."

"Why do I need to do it this year?"

"Because next year you'll need to take both personal fitness and language," she stated. Alex inwardly groaned. He had been putting off both. Language because there wasn't much to learn and he dreaded sitting in a classroom bing bored all day, and personal fitness because he was a little... sensitive... about changing in front of all the other boys with his bullet wound and various other scars that adorned his body. "There is the option of taking personal fitness this year, but I'm afraid all of the language classes are full."

Alex nodded. "I'll take a fine arts, then." The longer he could put off personal fitness, the longer his body had time to heal and scars to fade.

"Okay," she clicked her mouse a few times and frowned at the computer. "It seems all the electives except a few are taken."

"What are those few?"

She squinted at the computer screen and said, "chorus, band, sculpting, and horticulture."

Alex's mind reeled. Couldn't he choose something more... easy? Or normal? He ran through the list in his mind. Horticulture, no way. He had seen the pitiful greenhouses on top of the science building and cringed at the thought of tending to little green plants like they were his children. Chorus? He crossed that off too. Whenever he would sing along to songs on the radio, Jack would threaten to beat him over the head with the closest object.

Which left band and sculpting.

"Sculpting," he said. Maybe it would be easy enough.

"Okay," she clicked a few more buttons. "Oh! You can get started right now. The bell's about to ring and the only period with sculpting in it is next. I'll send an email to Mrs. Mullinster about it."

Alex nodded. "Thanks."

She smiled. "No problem."

As the bell signaled the next period, Alex stood up and walked to his fine arts class.

* * *

Only a half an hour into the class, Alex wanted to punch something. His clay wouldn't mold itself and his hand sure wouldn't mold it either. Giving up, he mushed the clay back into a block and started over.

It was very hard to work with, so he added some water. And then some more. And more. Before he knew it, the clay was so wet that it was running everywhere.

He raised his hand and Mrs. Mullinster came over to him. "I think I need new clay."

She frowned.

Not soon enough, the period ended and Alex burst out into the hall, his hands stained gray. He made his way to the office and asked to see the same counselor he had talked to before.

He was in luck – she was in.

"What can I help you with?" she asked, looking worried at the pitiful expression on his face. What's this? The world's one and only teenage spy can't even mold clay? Alex felt like hitting himself.

"Uhh..." he hesitated. "ImadeamistakeIchooseband. Ohpleasepleasepleaseswitchmeintothere!"

The counselor blinked. "Say that again – but slower."

Alex took a deep breath. "Can you please change my fine arts into band? I failed at sculpting."

The counselor grinned at him in amusement. "Usually, we don't allow this–," Alex started to protest but she put a hand up to stop him, "but in your case, I think it would be best to switch you to band. I saw the look you were wearing when you first came in here. Even now."

Alex cringed and quickly rearranged his features as the counselor printed out a copy of his new schedule.

He glanced at it, and thanked the counselor quickly.

"Not a problem. But the band director, Mr. Bishop, wants to talk to you after school," she said. Alex nodded and thanked her again. She just laughed.

On his way to the last class of the day, Alex studied his schedule. Most of his classes remained the same, except band was fourth period, when he had lunch. With excitement, he saw that he was moved into the same lunch as Tom.

Feeling pretty good (and not knowing that was about to change), he headed into Algebra.

When he got out of maths class, he headed to the band room – which he had never set foot into in his life. "You're Alex?" a voice behind him asked.

Alex turned around to see a man in his upper thirties smirking down at him. "Mr. Bishop?" Alex asked. The man nodded.

"Let's go into my office," he said, and led Alex into a small room off of the spacious band room. To say it was cluttered would be an understatement, this room was a wreck.

Alex sat down in a vacant chair and Mr. Bishop made himself comfortable in his plush rolly chair. "So, Alex. Have you ever played an instrument before?" Alex shook his head. "In this case, I'd have you go into a beginning band class, but unfortunately, the class was taken away because not enough people signed up for the class. Do you have an instrument of choice?"

Alex shook his head. Truthfully, he didn't care. He just needed to get through two semesters of it and then he'd be done.

"Okay, flute, then."

Alex stared at him in horror. "What?!"

Mr. Bishop shrugged. "Flute. You said you had no preference, and right now, that's the section where we're lacking the most players, surprisingly."

"Are you sure I can't do trumpet or something?"

"Our trumpet section has twelve people. Believe me, that's enough."

"What about...?" Alex racked his brains for another instrument, but his mind came up blank. He had to admit that he didn't know of any other instruments off hand. Embarrassed, he slouched in his chair. "Okay, then, flute it is."

The word flute seemed odd against his tongue. It didn't roll right.

"I think it's safe to assume you don't have access to one or want to purchase one, am I right?"

Alex thought hard. "Actually, I think my guardian has one somewhere in our attic. I'll find it."

Mr. Bishop nodded. "Good. Here's a list of private instructors that I'd suggest maybe having a lesson at least twice every week. More would be better. Especially this week since you've never played before. Chair placement tests are coming up, too, actually. The scales are B flat, E flat, A flat, F, and chromatic plus a sight reading piece."

Alex nodded though he had absolutely no idea what the words meant. He wordlessly took the list of names and telephone numbers and stored it in his backpack for safekeeping.

"Thanks," Alex said, standing up.

"Not a problem, oh, and if anyone makes stupid comments about you playing flute, ignore them. The flute is as asexual as the clarinet."

Alex felt his eye twitch, but thanked his again and left. He unlocked his bike from the shed and rode home silently, brooding about this new form of torture that life had instilled upon him.

* * *

"Jack?" Alex called when he entered his silent house.

"In here, Alex!"

"Where's here?" he asked, walking into the kitchen and found her staring intently at a vase.

"Very funny."

"Uh... Jack..."

"Yeah?" She hadn't taken her eyes off the vase.

Alex chickened out. "Why are you staring at the vase. Are you trying to use telekinesis or something."

"You're hilarious. And no, I was trying to figure out how to clean the dust from the inside of it. The neck it too small to get my rag down it."

"You could try just washing it," Alex pointed out.

"Then I can't dry the inside for the same reason."

"Let it air-dry."

"It'll be streaky."

"Fine then," Alex said and went upstairs with a smile. After dumping his backpack onto his bed, he ascended into the attic and began his search for the lost flute. He wasn't even sure what the case would look like.

After a half hour of searching and finding no musical instrument, he gave up and went to his room to work on homework until Jack called him down for dinner.

"Anything exciting happen at school today?" Jack asked as she shoveled rice into her mouth.

"Well..."

"Tell me."

"Fine. I had to go see the counselor because I need to take a fine arts class this semester," Alex explained. "And only chorus, band, sculpting, and horticulture were left."

Jack cringed for his benefit. "That's harsh. And I hope for the sake of the poor school's eardrums that you didn't pick chorus."

Alex mock-glared at his sister-like caretaker and continued. "I ruled out horticulture and chorus, don't worry. So I chose sculpting. But... that didn't work so well..." he explained what had happened during class and at the end, Jack was about to roll of the floor from laughter.

"So," Alex said loudly to regain Jack's attention, "I went back to her office and asked to be switched to band."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "How are you going to magically have musical knowledge?"

"Well... Mr. Bishop gave me the numbers of a couple instructors that I can learn from."

Jack nodded. "And what instrument, exactly, are you going to be playing?"

This was what Alex had been dreading. "Uhh... guess," was his lame reply.

Jack tapped her chin in thought. "Is it woodwind or brass?" Alex gave her a look like she belonged in an asylum. "Never mind, then. Just tell me."

"Uh... no."

"Alex," Jack said. "I will personally take that vase sitting over there on the counter and beat your head until it implodes."

Alex rolled his eyes. "You'll laugh."

Jack rolled her eyes back at him. "I promise I won't."

Alex sighed. "Fine, then. It's flute."

Jack choked on the piece of stake she was chewing and began coughing, using it to mask her obvious need to begin laughing like a maniac. "That's a," cough, "very good," cough, "choice." She managed to swallow her steak and wiped her mouth with a napkin to hide her growing grin. In a bigger attempt to cover it up, she took a drink of her apple juice but ended up choking on it as well.

"If you're done," Alex said, not at all amused, "I'd like help finding your old flute. The one you bought when you decided to take up the flute and then quit after a month of lessons."

Jack managed to keep a straight face as she picked up the dinner dishes, but Alex could hear her laughing over the sound of the running faucet.

* * *

How was it? I've never actually sculpted, so I don't know how hard or easy it might be, but I can just imagine Alex failing miserably at it. As for flute, I play it, so it will be fun to write about Alex and his section.

Mr. Bishop was actually my band director in middle school, though I've changed his character a bit.

Give me some feedback!


	2. Chapter 2

Hello again! I am back... I think. Though my classes decided to greatly increase the amount of homework we have to do. Gross.

I'm really excited because I'm going to the battle of the bands, which is a bunch of marching bands competing in exactly one week! Well, since it's one in the morning on Sunday, I guess it'd be six days then! Ahhh I can't wait!

Disclaimer: I own my flute! Mwuahaha! -whispers from lawyer- Darn it! Technically, my dad owns that, too, since he bought it.

* * *

"It must be here somewhere, I never got rid of it," Jack said, coughing frantically as she stirred up a mound of dust.

"Maybe it's in your closet?" Alex asked, hoping to get out of the dust bowl.

Jack shook her head. "No, no, I remember putting it in the attic because I didn't want to see the pitiful instrument ever again. Or, technically, it could be in the basement... actually, or my closet as well..."

Alex sighed, stirring up more dust. "I'm pretty sure it's not up here. We've been searching through this foot of dust for the past hour. We're not going to find it."

"Aha!" Jack cried.

"You found it?!"

"No, I found my old music stand. Here, take it, you'll probably need it," Jack said, handing him the stand, "at least to practice at home."

Alex threw the dusty metal stand on his floor as they made their way toward Jack's room. "I'll search my closet, you look under the bed," she directed.

Alex flopped onto his stomach and pulled his torso under the bed. Everything was as dusty as the attic. Coughing, he tried to pull himself out but only managed to hit his head extremely hard. Alex saw a black plastic case hiding behind a pile of college text books, and he excitedly pulled it out...

and was immediately disappointed. What he held in his hands was a black case, but it was a laptop case, not a flute one, according to what Jack described.

"Aha! I found it!" Jack called. There was a big crashing sound. Alex shoved the case back under the bed and ran to Jack's closet. There was no Jack, only a hand holding a long black case triumphantly above the mound of _crap_ that had fallen from the shelves.

Alex helped move some of the clothes and other various objects away from Jack. "Are you okay?" he asked. Jack nodded. "Did you try and climb up the shelves?" Jack looked around shiftily before nodding again. "I know from experience that those shelves are very unstable."

"And how would you know this?" Jack asked.

It was Alex's turn for shifty eyes. "Uh... when I was six I went looking for my Christmas presents..."

Jack laughed and handed him the flute case. "Good luck."

Alex gulped.

* * *

Alex sat on his bed, staring furiously at the three pieces of metal that sat there mocking him. After about a half hour of this, Jack walked in and immediately began laughing.

Alex shot her a glare, and resumed staring at the pieces of the flute.

"Here let me help you," Jack laughed. Alex said nothing so she took the pieces and connected them properly. Like magic, a flute appeared before Alex. He smiled in thanks at Jack and took it from her.

He was still at a loss.

Jack sighed and positioned his fingers over the correct key. Alex's left index finger kept moving to the key next to his middle finger and Jack continuously put it back over the correct key. "That's so weird," Alex complained.

Jack laughed, "wait until you learn the fingerings for each note."

* * *

Alex and Jack collectively decided he needed a crash course in music. Alex called all of the five numbers on the slip of paper Mr. Bishop gave him, and only one was available that night for an hour.

As they pulled into the driveway of the flute instructor's house, Jack swore. Alex looked at her questioningly. "Uh, I can't go in with you, sorry."

Alex frowned. "Why?"

She forced a smile, "oh, no reason. I have to... go to the grocery store, that's all."

Alex sighed, but agreed. "Fine, but I want the full story when I get home. Pick me up at nine."

Jack nodded as Alex climbed out of the car, then she drove away as fast a legally possible.

_That was weird..._, Alex thought, climbing up the stairs and ringing the doorbell, clutching the handle of the flute case with sweaty hands. An old lady answered the door and frowned, "what do you want?"

Alex cleared his throat, "I'm Alex, I'm here for flute lessons."

The lady nodded and smiled. "Ah, I thought Alex was short for Alexandra or Alexa," she laughed. "Obviously not. Well, dear, let's get inside and started."

Alex followed her into a music studio-like room. She sat down and motioned for Alex to do the same.

"Let's start out with what you know."

"Uh..." Alex said, "I know how to put it together... and the positions for your fingers..."

The flute lady sighed. "This might take a while. And you said your first band class is tomorrow?" Alex nodded. "Let's get to work."

* * *

The next hour was the most painful of Alex's life. He would rather be swimming the the Man of War instead of here, he thought bitterly as the flute lady corrected his embouchure for the millionth time. He learned very quickly that the lady had no patience and expected him to know what he was doing.

"Well, that's all for tonight," she half snapped at him. "Good luck tomorrow,"

Alex finished disassembling the flute. "Thanks," he said, then hightailed it out of there.

When Jack picked him up, she saw the look on his face and immediately began laughing. "Poor kid, you had to put up with her for an hour."

"You know her?"

Jack nodded. "She used to be my teacher."

When they got home, Alex collapsed onto the couch and immediately fell asleep. Jack sat in a chair next to the couch and proceeded to knit as she watched a random American movie.

When Alex woke up, Jack had a foot added on the end of her... scarf? "What exactly are you knitting, Jack?"

"Uh... well..." she held up the mishapped, warped piece of fabric. "A scarf."

Alex grinned. "I'm going to bed."

"Night, Alex."

"Goodnight, Jack."

* * *

_Fifth hour band_, Alex thought. _This will be interesting._

All through the day, the flute case was hidden at the very bottom of Alex's backpack to avoid suspicion from Tom, who Alex had neglected to inform about the fine arts class.

He could only hope Tom wouldn't find out. Alex would hear no end to the taunts and soon the news would spread all over their school.

No, Alex decided. He would keep this secret from even Tom.

Alex peeked his head around the door, feeling silly. Why was he feeling anxious about walking into a band room when he has been in multiple more sticky situations.

Sighing, he scuttled in the door as the final bell rung signaling the beginning of class. Alex took the (because he refused to refer to it as 'his') flute out of his backpack along with the fingering chart he had been given by the flute lady.

A mass of students were wrestling large, breakable-looking instruments out of their cases and sitting down to warm up. Alex chewed his lip nervously, seeking out other flute players with his eyes.

He saw one sitting on the front row. Alex sat down next to her, keeping a chair between them. A girl walked over and sat between them, beaming at Alex, who nodded in greeting.

"Get out of my chair, Flute-Boy," A nasty-looking girl said, chewing viciously on her gum.

Alex chose not to respond and scooted over into the next chair.

As it turned out, three girls – and Alex – now made up the flute section. The other instruments had large sections, th smallest being five tubas. That was really small for a flute section for that size band. But of course, Alex didn't know that at all. He just assumed life hated him.

He unlatched the locks on the flute case and put the flute together, proud it only took him one time. He brought it to his lips to play when a girl and boy walked past him and sat down next to him. He spent the next minute positioning himself so he wouldn't hit the girl next to him in the face.

Her instrument puzzled him. It _looked _like a Clarinet, but it was skinnier and the mouthpiece was different. It was only when the boy asked the girl to 'hand him his oboe case' that Alex figured out what the instrument was.

The flutists in the first two chairs began playing a intricate duet. Alex felt detached. He couldn't do this. He should have picked horticulture or something.

Mr. Bishop walked in, gathered some papers, and set them on his stand. His stand, like his office, was messy and disorganized, and it took him a while to realize what he was searching for was not there. He walked over to the first chair flute player and told her something. She put her flute on her chair and picked up her music and walked out.

Soon, she returned with three sheets of paper. "Hi, I'm Lily," she said.

"I'm Alex, nice to meet you."

"This is our first piece of music for festival season. We'll get our other pieces eventually. Our first sectional is this afternoon, so it would be great if you can make it."

Alex nodded and took the music from her, his eyes going wide at the amount of ink on the paper. Some of the notes had four or five lines between them and the staff. Poor Alex had only learned to the first C above the staff in his lesson.

Luckily, his nerves were quieted as Mr. Bishop got up on his podium and started them off with B flat. That was easy, he could do it. It was just his thumb, index, other index, and pinky fingers.

Then C, just index finger and pinky. Easy.

Then D. Also easy.

F. A piece of cake.

All the way to the higher B flat and down again. Easy enough.

"Scales."

Mr. Bishop had called out the command and got faster at the same time. A whirlwind of notes cascaded around Alex and he tried to think of what the scales were.

Then nothing.

"Okay, let's move onto out festival music!" Mr. Bishop called out. Some students muttered amongst themselves as pages were flipped and tuning slides adjusted.

Mr. Bishop began tapping his... stick... rapidly against his stand for the tempo.

_Oh dear_, Alex thought, _this will be a long class_.

* * *

Well, that's that! I've had everything except the music class itself typed forever, and I'm just finding time now to finish it. I'm sorry for the wait, and thank you to all my wonderful reviewers!

**Saynt Jimmy, **thanks for reviewing! I'm glad I got sculpting right, haha. As for flute, I can't not like it, since I play it. But I definitely understand where you're coming from. **XxXmaximuM-RideRXxX**, haha, yes, flute. Thanks for reviewing! **Jusmine**, yeah, I know what you mean, whenever I look at my flute case I think of Alex playing flute. As for theory, I don't know any, mostly because my school is dumb and refuses to offer it. Basically, all the theory I know just minor scales. And your menacing voice is perfect! Tehe. **Moo-like-a-llama**, hooray for band geeks! I'm one as well! For us though, we just have marching, concert, and jazz. I'm learning saxophone for jazz band this year xD. **Sheluby94dreamer**, haha, that would be amazing if Alex turned out to be a really good flute player. Alas, you have driven a rift into my mind, I was planning on having him fail completely, though you've given me a good idea... though the fic would be longer than I was planning. **FunFlirtyFlute**, at least one of the girls is going to think that way. And at least one will be totally against him. Haha, I can't wait to introduce the section. And thank you **Snuffle** for reviewing!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hello again! Sorry it's taken me so long to update, I've just been so busy with school, band, and AP exams. It's been forever since I've even written for the AR fandom. Argh! But I decided someone's going to make an appearance, whom I adore. But I don't think it will affect the main plot or anything. Not that there really is a main plot. Then again, why not?

Disclaimer:

Alex: No, I do not belong to this psychopath who is making me play a musical instrument! But she does own her flute, so you can sue her for that!

Nuclear Squid: No! You're not allowed to! Anyways, technically, my dad owns it since he bought it for me.

Alex: Well... fine then.

NS: Ha! Fail! (To readers) Enjoy, my lovies!

* * *

Alex managed to play one note in three measures. For him, it was really good. Especially since the notes had three lines connecting them. That meant fast, right?

Right. Mean-Flute-Girl was kind enough to inform him that he was retarded. Charming girl, really.

Alex sighed and looked back at his music. Oops. He lost his place. Blinking, he looked at Nasty-Girl's music. It was covered in penciled hearts with the initials M.B. inside of them.

That didn't help. Soon, the band stopped playing and Mr. Bishop turned to the trumpets to pick apart a part of the song. According to Nasty-Girl's whispering to the girl next to her, it was a really easy part.

"Try to keep up flute-boy," Nasty-Girl said, turning up her nose to study Alex between her way-too-long eye lashes.

Alex tried his hardest to keep from making some snappy comment. Luckily, the second chair flute came to his rescue. Maniac villains he could deal with. PMSing girls wielding flutes, not so much.

"Chill, Jen. He's new," Okay, it wasn't the best defense on his part, but it saved him from getting impaled with a flute. Which wasn't even all that pointy.

Alex sighed and stared at the clock before picking up the flute and attempting to play.

Alex noticed some people get up occasionally and go to the bathroom, and he attempted to do the same thing. "Chicken," Nasty-Girl hissed with a smirk.

Straightening defiantly, Alex stayed where he was and did his best to prove Nasty-Girl wrong and that he could actually play, contrary to propular belief.

Not soon enough, band class ended and Alex made his escape. He almost ran to his bicycle and peddled home with shaking legs.

When Alex got home, he collapsed onto his bed until Jack came upstairs to prod him into making the effort to eat supper. Luckily, she took pity on his poor soul and made lots of one-sided small talk and avoided any mention of anything to do with music.

Up late, Alex rubbed his eyes as his Algebra equations blurred in front of his. Stupid maths! He was still trying to catch up from his last bout of 'sickness.'

All too soon, it was the next morning and Alex found himself late for school. He ran into Algebra after locking his bike and handed in his messy homework. "You call these equations, Rider?" his teacher asked.

Some kids laughed, but Alex just stared at the board. "Sorry, Sir."

The teacher nodded and continued with class. Alex tried to stay awake so hard, but ended up falling asleep. The week continued much this way, but Alex found himself getting more accustomed to his sleep time (or lack thereof) and found himself more alert and awake.

Too soon, it was time for after school band practice again. Alex did his best to follow along, but whoever said the second day was easier must have been on crack. Nasty-Girl continued to make snide comments, and even the director commented on how lacking his flute section was.

The next day held sectionals. He learned that Nastly-Girl was named Jen, The first chair was named Raven, and the second chair was named Jessica. Knowing him, though, Alex probably forgot someone.

The sectional went okay, Alex supposed. Raven was really nice and helped Alex indirectly to save him from snide comments from Nast- Alex quickly corrected himself- Jen.

The next day was better than all the others in class, but a horror waited for him outside the band room after class. It was Tom.

"You're in band?!?" he yelled.

Alex winced. "What are you doing here?"

"Delivering a note to the chorus director. Stop changing the subject. And answer my question."

"It wasn't really a question, it was more of a statement."

"Then deny it, or _something_."

"What's wrong with it?" Alex asked. He didn't want to know the answer.

"Band is for _nerds_, Alex. You already have people thinking you're a druggie. And a Martian. Do you want them to think you're a band nerd as well? What do you play anyways?"

"Flute," Alex whispered, seeing no point in denying anything.

"_Even better_," Tom groaned. "Now you have a Drug-Dealing Pansy-Martian."

Alex rolled his eyes at his friend. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't want to take band, but I needed a fine arts class this term. And pottery was just brutal."

Tom sighed. "There's no need to apologize to me, Mate. Just tell me these things, okay? And don't make me find out like this. Yuck."

Alex promised and they went off to the football field to kick a ball around.

They messed around for a half an hour before Tom said. "Alex, don't look now, but there's a creepy guy at the end of the field. Do you know him?"

Alex stiffened and dearly hoped it wasn't MI6. He wasn't the nicest to Blunt the last time he had seen him.

They began to play and Tom allowed Alex to rotate around so he could glance at the man. Alex's blood ran cold. Instead of acknowledging the man, Alex ignored him. "Never seen him," Alex whispered to Tom.

Tom nodded and soon the two boys were tired and went their separate ways home. Tom, leisurely peddling his bike while Alex sat erect and paranoid.

Nothing ever happened after that, so Alex dismissed it as a trick of the light. That is, until he walked into band the next day.

The same man stood there that was there the day before on the football field. The same man that haunted Alex's dreams and nightmares. The same man that was leaning casually against the front table an chatting idly with Mr. Bishop.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Mr. Bishop greeted the class. "I'd like to introduce our new Assistant band director,"

Alex's heart stopped for a moment. He would be staying permanently? Great. As if Alex's life didn't suck enough.

"Yassen Gregorovitch."

Alex let out an involuntary gasp as the piercing blue eyes rested on Alex. A smirk flitted over the man's face that made Alex squirm before moving onto the rest of the students.

Alex guessed life didn't torture him enough with the near-constant missions and near-fatal experiences to leave him alone while at school.

* * *

Gah, I hate how short it is, but I couldn't resist stopping there. Oh, how I love making Alex squirm!

Wowzers. I got like a million bajillion reviews! Thanks everyone!

**FunFlirtyFlute**: Hehe, yay flutes! Don't worry, I'll be getting there with at least one of the characters.  
**Ambrele**: OMG, I wish I could play violin so bad. Unfortunately, our school doesn't have an orchastra -cries-.  
**VSLDT**: Hehe, I miss you too. I can't decide yet. Ari is kind of a self-insert of me hehehehe. But, I will try to add you too.  
**Iwantapiccocccliclllllooooo**: Yeah, my band has eleven flutes and only two tubas, most because I needed a legitimate reason for Alex to join the flute section. It'd be kind of hard for me to write about him learning to play a brass insrtument, since I don't play brass.  
**Snuffle**: Thanks!  
**XxXmaximuM-RideRXxX**: Hehe, yes. The nickname was just a random thought in my mind. Last year, our flute section had a guy, but he was super cool and first chair.  
**True Colors**: Nah, it's staff. But yeah, my flute section has eleven flutes while the band has only two tubas. I just needed a reason to make Alex play flute. And another flute player is being added, she was absent that day in class.  
**Sheluby94dreamer**: Hehe, yes, flute-boys are awesome. There was one in my section last year and he was super cool and first chair.  
**Lady Shadow Of Time**: Hehe, thank you very much! It's amusing me as well just to write it!  
**The Feral Candy Cane**: That's good, cause flute is amazing, hehe. Thanks for the review!  
**purple kimono**: Haha, that's great! Instruments of torture... hehehehe. Too bad Herod Sayle isn't there to play the high high high C on piccolo. I do that to spite people on whim.  
**Jusmine**: Hehe, insane people are the most fun. Thank you for correcting my mistake, I'm sad, for it was my favorite line in the story and I messed it up!  
**Griffin16**: Yeah, guy flautists are amazing! We had one who was first chair last year!


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